


Close Enough to Start a War

by warmestbloggerever



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 09:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10568961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmestbloggerever/pseuds/warmestbloggerever
Summary: In "Weeks of Bliss", there's a pillow fight in the Apollo cabin. It's not the first one they've ever had, nor the last.Here is another situation that led to a pillow fight.[Based on MelChan1003's Making Nico Happy series.]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Weeks Of Bliss (aka: A hundred bad mornings, and how they still turned out awesome, anyways)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8010331) by [MelChan1003](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelChan1003/pseuds/MelChan1003). 



> This is based on this part of 'Weeks of Bliss': "Though that had not stopped Will an hour before that, when he had grabbed a random pillow and thrown it towards Kayla, just to whack her across the head with another one a moment later, yelling something about a surprise pillow fight – which apparently was a regular thing in the Apollo cabin, because everybody had immediately armed up and charged into battle as well."
> 
> I hope you like it!
> 
> Title is from 'Turning Tables', by Adele. Characters (except for Alec, who is MelChan1003's) belong to Rick Riordan.

Reading in the Apollo cabin was usually not this bad of an idea. There was background music most of the time — naturally — which helped him focus on the text in front of him. Today in particular he tried reading while practicing yoga, and there was enough space on the rug in front of the couch for him to attempt that.

“Yoga _and_ reading? Wow, Will.” Alec had commented in a not particularly impressed voice. It was more disbelieving than anything. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to learn two things at once or keep something out of your mind.”

Will shrugged — well, that is, shrugged as much as he could while doing an one-legged downward dog.

“Just trying to relax from work, man.” He said.

“By reading a textbook on your job field.” Now Alec sounded amused.

“One can never be too prepared.”

So far, it had worked. The letters were still attempting to do the Cha-Cha on the page in front of him, but the extra attention on his own breathing and the fact that he _also_ had to focus on the pose he was doing helped keeping his ADHD at bay.

Seriously, what was the universe _thinking_ when it decided to create him? _Wow, let’s bring this demigod to life. He’ll be unable to fight to save his life and will be a mediocre healer. Hey, you know what we should do to help him understand the tiny minuscule letters in medical textbooks? Give him dyslexia. And ADHD, because it’s fun. Ha ha_.

Thanks, universe. Fuck you, too.

But, despite the bitterness, he was already used to being a punchline, so he just sucked it up and learned what was there to learn about the anatomy of the skull, guessing it might come in handy someday — although he certainly hoped against it.

The only thing making his concentration fade was the argument Kayla and Austin were having behind the couch. The rest of his siblings were on the bunk beds, watching with varying degrees of amusement and interest as Austin waved a “21” CD album in front of Kayla’s face and shouted at her.

“‘Someone Like You’ is the superior song!”

Kayla laughed, but there was no humor in it. She _did_ seem to be taking this seriously, hands balled up into fists and teeth grinding.

“Oh, yeah?” She shouted back, then proceeded to sing, “ _You’re gonna wish you never had met me_!”.

Austin was offended.

“ _Never mind, I’ll find someone like you_!” He sang too, and Kayla covered her ears — a deeply offensive gesture among the Apollo cabin — and scowled at him.

Will wasn’t fond of fighting, and he would normally attempt to stop it, since it seemed more serious than their usual bickering — surprising, considering the irrelevance of the subject.

But this was their first display of passion after the war. Michael and Lee were gone, and it had all been gray and fake smiles and unusual, heavy silence in the cabin until very recently. So, he guessed, as long as it didn’t get physical and no one actually hurt one another, he could let them be angry.

But, just for good measure, he decided to say, “Austin, it’s not very nice to make people feel like they’re easily replaceable”.

Just so his sister knew Austin didn’t actually mean it.

Austin, on his part, turned his scowl toward him and opened his mouth to say something, but Kayla was quicker.

“Will!” She said. “Solve this for us! Tell him I’m right.”

“‘Someone Like You’ evokes _way_ more emotion than ‘Rolling In The Deep’. What the heck does that even mean?!” Austin snapped.

“My favorite is actually ‘Turning Tables’.” Will said, calmly moving into an upward facing dog and counting the seconds in his head.

He didn’t even need to look at them to know they were silently judging him. In a way, it was a good thing, since it took their attention away from the fighting. He didn’t really like the staring, though.

“What?” He broke the silence to defend himself. “It’s a good song.” It really was.

“Yeah, but,” Austin tried again. “Between ‘Rolling In The Deep’ and ‘Someone Like You’, which one do you think it’s best?”

Will turned to give them a blank look while he thought of an answer. Truthfully, he didn’t even know why they wanted his opinion, since he was one of the least musically talented people in the Camp.

For real, he bet there were children of _Ares_ that could play the glockenspiel better than he could play the guitar. And they tended to use _way_ too much force in everything they did, ever — with only a few exceptions, of course.

Austin raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

“...Can I plead the fifth on that?” Will finally said, and Austin rolled his eyes.

“ _Old friend, why are you so shy? Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light_.” He sang in a low voice, then turned to Kayla with a renewed fire in his eyes, snapping his fingers once. “See?! The song is perfect for every occasion!”.

But Kayla wasn’t having it. She stomped her foot on the ground so hard that their spectators on the bed jumped in surprise.

“ _Finally I can see you crystal clear_!” She sang passionately.

“ _No worries or cares!_ ” Austin sang back.

“‘Rolling In The Deep’!”

“‘Someone Like You’!”

“‘Set Fire To The Rain’!” Someone yelled from a bunk bed, but before they could process that, Kayla grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and threw it squarely on Austin’s face.

Someone gasped.

The entire room held its breath and the pillow fell to the ground, revealing the boy’s outraged wide eyes. Kayla smirked.

“Oh,” Austin said, his low voice chilling after the screams. “So that’s how you want it, uh?”

“Yeah. Bring it on, punk.” She spat the last word.

Will’s voice as he tried to intervene was completely ignored as his two siblings yelled, in unison, “SURPRISE PILLOW FIGHT!” and ran to grab as much ammunition as possible from the couch, where the throw pillows waited, unaware of the battle they were about to go through.

There were battle cries and suddenly pillows were flying everywhere in the previously organized room. Will cursed. He could see his siblings hiding between bunks or under beds, and he hurried to grab his textbook and put it in the drawer of the television hack. He didn’t need anyone tripping on that and getting seriously hurt — nor did he need any damaged textbooks, for that matter. Those were _expensive_.

Will didn’t know how or when the tradition of pillow fights started — for all he knew it could be from Ancient Greece. It was already a thing by the time he came to camp. The only rule was: the moment someone started a surprise pillow fight, there was no turning back. Everyone was automatically included, and it was _war_.

A pillow hit Will in the face, and all remaining thoughts of anything unrelated to the battle in front of him — skull anatomy, if he was breathing correctly, the injuries he healed today, the injuries he _couldn’t_ heal, the war, and things he _wasn’t_ supposed to be thinking about — vanished, and he ran toward a bed, rushing to grab a pillow and establish his place in this fight.


End file.
